Page 114 of The Brit

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“I was fifteen,” I say without thought. “I would have moved mountains to keep my son.”

Esther recoils, surprised. Yes, I have a son, so she can’t tell me I don’t understand. I do. “Then why didn’t you?” she asks gently, throwing my words back in my face. I suddenly can’t breathe as I stare Danny’s mother in the eye. She’s not looking at me in disapproval or disgust. She’s looking at me like she truly needs my answer.

“I—”

“There you are.” Danny’s voice joins us in the kitchen, and I turn to find my knight in rusty, tarnished armor, looks like anything but. He’s wearing a fine black three-piece, his hair slicked back, his stubble neat. His piercing gaze assesses me, blazing a trail of appreciation up and down my body. “Are you okay?”

I pull myself together and push my shoulders back, glancing at Esther. She smiles at me before going about her business. “I’m fine.” I strain a meek smile and approach him, slipping my arm through his when he cocks it out. We walk to the car, and I note Brad and Ringo getting in the Merc up front as Danny leads me to the one behind. “They’re joining us for dinner?”

Opening the passenger door for me, he lets me lower to the seat, holding my hand. “I don’t go far without them.”

I wouldn’t either if I had a target as big as Danny’s on my back. I guess I have now, too, so their presence should reassure me. Danny slips into the driver’s side and starts the car, studying me thoughtfully. “What?” I ask as I pull my seatbelt across.

“Tonight . . . it’s going to be fine. Good,” he tells me, laying his hand palm up in front of me.

I frown as I place my hand in his, looking at him in question. He doesn’t entertain my curiosity. Just stares forward, squeezing my hand.

We pull up at iron decorative gates after a half-hour drive across town. The mansion is sprawling, easily on par with Danny’s epic palace, and just like Danny’s place, there are suited men at the gates. “I assumed we were going to a restaurant,” I say as Brad opens the door for me and I step out, catching him looking across the roof to Danny. It might be me, but he looks pissed off. I follow his eyes to Danny and find a cold stare. Have they fallen out? Over me?

“Ernie suggested dining here with him.” Danny rounds the car and collects me, leading me up the steps. “Given there’s someone out to kill me, I took the offer.”

“What’s with all the men?” I ask, motioning to two more guys halfway down the driveway.

“Ernie’s related to Carlo Black.” Danny tips me an ironic smile. “Dad always insisted he have security, much to Ernie’s displeasure.”

I can understand his displeasure, but also the need. “Is Brad okay?” I ask, casting my eyes over my shoulder. He and Ringo are following us, though keeping their distance. “He looks tense. It’s me, isn’t it? He doesn’t trust me.”

“That’s his problem. Don’t make it yours.” His words are final, daring me to ignore them. Brad looks around, his eyes high and low. Then his hard stare lands on me, and I shrink under his icy glare. Shrinking isn’t me, but I hate the notion that he dislikes me. I don’t suppose I can ask for anything more.

We’re greeted by a maid, who dips her head and offers us wine. Danny takes a glass and hands it to me, and I accept on a smile of thanks. The entrance hall is stark white, a chessboard of black and white tiles under my feet. It seems cold and empty. The only furniture seems to be the loitering suited men. Danny nods to them in hello, placing a hand on my back. “Let me show you to the terrace.” He leads me through a den that opens into a dining room, where an impressive table is set for three. Then we step out some doors to a large, well-kept garden with a pond.

I peek over the edge and see giant goldfish smoothly zigzagging through the water. “They’re some big fish.”

“In a little pond,” Danny muses. “Or is it little fish in a big pond?”

I nudge him on a light laugh and wander down to a swinging chair, sitting on the cocoon of wicker and swaying gently. “It’s nice here.”

“I’ll go find the old fool.” He drops a kiss on my nose before wandering back toward the house, and I relax back in the swing, rocking myself gently as I sip my wine and listen to crickets and croaking frogs. The peace and calm within me is bordering overwhelming, and for a moment I let my mind wander to Nox. Where he is; what he’s doing? They’re not questions I can answer, but I can be sure of one thing: he’ll be dead soon. Or is he already?


Tags: Jodi Ellen Malpas Romance